Old Wounds
by Alliriyan
Summary: Kenta’s grandmother has tracked down her wayward children, and when finally faced with a chance for her recognition Kenta makes a grievous error. But asking the Maakas for help in such a state of emotional turmoil may be the last thing he ever does...
1. Absent Bond

**Old Wounds**

_Absent Bond_

[+]

_Kenta's grandmother has tracked down her wayward children, and when finally faced with a chance for her recognition Kenta makes a grievous error. But asking the Maakas for help in such a state of emotional turmoil may be the last thing he ever does._

_

* * *

  
_

Usui-san scrutinised the small, ramshackle apartment block hunching into the ground before her. She did not double-check the address scrumpled in her manicured hand, because she had never expected her daughter to achieve better than this on her own.

Usui-san was, above all, a woman with expectations.

The carefully groomed, something-past-middle-aged visitor walked up the dirt pathway at a stately pace; she found the correct door easily and rapped on its paint-peeling surface. It was thin, cheap. She could hear the occupant mumble, stand up and patter over the tatami mats. The latch clunked.

"Is that you, Kaa-chan?" yawned a voice that had been absent from her life for many months; yet her heart had grown no fonder towards. It was a voice spawned from disobedience and shameful behaviour. She set her teeth tightly. It would be necessary to appear civil, even kind. For no matter how she detested the boy, she was fully aware that he would submit to her manipulations so long as he believed he had finally received her attention. After all, he had spent his entire life begging for just that.

"Close, Kenta." The words sullied her mouth with their false sentiment.

The door stopped moving. Ever so slowly, the evil eyes of her 'grandson' peeped around the edge of the wooden barricade, widening in horror.

"O…O…Obaa-san…" She had called him _Kenta_. What on earth was going on? His grandmother had always avoided direct address at all costs – as if denying his existence would make him disappear. Stranger than that, she was _here_.

_That detective lied,_ realised Kenta (hands still pressed against the wooden panels, body still frozen in place); _typical. And now Obaa-san is…_

Pushing past, stalking into the cramped flat, examining everything in mere seconds and judging it all unclean. The woman turned to him and he moved on automatic, closing the front door quietly, shuffling forwards for inspection. His mind was racing.

_Will we have to move house again? You've got to be kidding me. She can't have any hold over us anymore. The only thing she has to offer Kaa-chan and me is – is stability, and we've survived just fine-_

The next words spoken were shocked and tinged with compassion. "You've got so _thin_! Can't you even afford food?!"

_-without it._ Kenta did another mental double-take, because now his grandmother was acting like she cared. Either this was one of his habitual weird dreams, or the real world had gone mad.

Usui-san had solely come here to drag her daughter back home, not interact with that despicable man's clone-child. She'd gone to the trouble of stealing files off the laptop belonging to that private investigator when he'd come to cancel their contract. She'd come all the way here without assistance. What happened? Fumio was out. Barely able to stand the dingy building, not to mention that which lived within it, she decided to wrap the conversation up as quickly as was humanly possible. She lowered her head, disguising an artificial expression behind long waves of dyed-black hair.

"You are not aware of this, Kenta, but I've been searching for the both of you frantically ever since I woke up to find my only child and only grandchild gone. That…that made me realise…just how much I valued…"

Kenta's pure astonishment and disbelief, coupled with his creepy eyes, meant that his face suddenly became immensely scary to behold. Whether he intended it or not, it made his grandmother flinch back slightly.

"What I mean to say is," continued the unwelcome intruder swiftly; "I want a reconciliation with Fumio. Please tell me when she will be back home. And…please keep my coming here secret from her – I don't want my daughter to run away from me again." She suddenly looked straight at the boy she'd always ignored. "It hurts."

Kenta could see some kind of truth in her gaze, but his mouth just flapped uselessly. Was she asking him to take responsibility for everything that undoubtedly _would_ go wrong with this little mission?

The phone rang.

They both stared at it.

_It's either Maaka or my mother,_ thought Kenta. He sincerely hoped it was the former. Lifting the receiver, he put it to his ear and said "Moshi moshi, Usui here".

There was a beat of suspense.

A familiar voice sighed. "Oh, Kenta, sweetie, I am so exhausted. But I have some news at last," the Usui family had stopped distinguishing between good and bad news years ago; "I have a job interview. It's a quick one I can do tomorrow. So…could you start cooking dinner? I'll be back in forty minutes."

"Uh, Kaa-chan…" he had no idea what to say. He wanted to say "run!" but at the same time…Obaa-san seemed to have changed her attitude. Of course, she could be lying, but the chance to stop living in fear was so very, very tempting. "Ob…"

"I only have twenty-three seconds left on the payphone, are you okay? Is that alright?"

Ten seconds dithered away. He stared at the person whose need for control was so overpowering she'd stalked them to another city. At the relative who may finally want him in her family.

"…Okay, forty minutes. I'll see you then. Yeah, I'm fine." The teenager saw the woman smile oddly and the doubt surged up again worse then before. The phone buzzed as his mother disconnected, any option to warn her of their uninvited guest lost.

"Forty minutes," repeated Usui-san. "May I wait here, then?" It wasn't really a question.

Kenta quailed. "Um, yes. I – I have to go to work now though. I have a night shift. At a restaurant." He couldn't bring himself to say 'no' and throw her out, though he was physically capable of doing so. He didn't want to break this rare good humour Obaa-san was displaying.

But if she was going to stay, hell if he would. He'd been conditioned since he could walk to keep out of rooms Obaa-san was using, and for once he was glad to accept such boundaries. However nice she was affecting to be, the pressure of her presence was too much to take after seven months of relative freedom.

Usui-san watched him escape, and sighed with disgust the moment the coast was clear. What a hole. Fumio must be insane to give up a secure home – and for what, the 'happiness' of her illegitimate teenage pregnancy? If she had ever hit her daughter, it was only in a futile attempt to beat some sense into her. Looking at what had happened even when the girl lived at home, who knew what terrible things would befall her in a town full of strangers? With a daughter so vulnerable and weak-willed who could blame a mother for wanting to regain some control? 'It hurts'. Hah. The only thing that Fumio's reckless actions hurt was her mother's pride.

Thirty-five minutes still remained. The wait would not be pleasant.

* * *

_-Alliriyan-_


	2. Old Wounds

**Old Wounds**

_Old Wounds_

[+]

* * *

Life in Obaa-san's house had been…lonely.

She was someone who had always clung to her daughter's life as tightly as if it was her own. As a child, Fumio had always managed to keep within the constricting boundaries of her mother's strict expectations. But the moment the teenager's pregnancy had stopped being a secret, she lost her mother's love forever.

All that remained were the eggshells Kenta had spent his entire life walking on.

That pregnancy, Fumio's first and greatest rebellion, had grown into an impassable rift between mother and daughter.

That in itself would have been fine.

But Obaa-san flatly refused to let go of what she saw as hers. So she'd caged them in that house, forced Fumio to be dependent on her charity and tried to erase Kenta from the picture, just by never looking at him. A life-long tug of war, as Obaa-san attempted to cling to the one whilst pushing the other away. His grandmother may have had too much pride to hit a child (his mother and father had had no such protection), but the cruel words and ostracism had always been as painful as blows nevertheless.

However there was a problem with such an approach.

Fumio refused to let go of Kenta, and always had done from the instant she found out he existed. Drawing her daughter closer meant the brat came as well; and pushing Kenta away meant the girl left with him. Surely Obaa-san must have thought that without Kenta she could have the old, obedient Fumio back; one with a future her mother could control.

She used to sit in the living room, watching the melodramatic soaps that mirrored her life with a bitter expression curdling in her face; should the boy ever enter the same room as her she would loudly announce to no one in particular that unwanted children were not permitted in her presence.

Kenta had always striven to be desirable to his grandmother: by being quiet and obedient, a hard worker, a high scorer…it was no wonder his life's ambition was to be a 'good citizen'. The fact was, he'd survived his childhood with merely a pervading atmosphere of depression his sole scar (it _could_ be worse), only by endlessly repeating to himself – 'not unwanted by mama, not unwanted by mama'.

But on days when Okaa-chan was so exhausted she could barely drag herself up off the floor, he couldn't help wondering.

In what they'd both prayed was the end, Fumio had torn free of her mother's vice-like grip and run away with her son. And in this new city they may have failed to find decent accommodation, jobs his mother could hold onto or enough food to eat; but they _had_ discovered the feeling of freedom. And a tiny, important seed of hope.

But now Obaa-san was here and it was withering away far faster than it had grown.

Half an hour later he may have escaped his grandmother, but still didn't feel like he could breathe. Barely five minutes of her company had sent all the feelings of the not-so-distant past rushing back to swamp him. But several more contenders had been added, whirling round and round in his head like a scratched record, because after fifteen years of rejecting him she'd suddenly seemed to care. Or pretended to.

What if there could be a reconciliation, just like his estranged parents had managed to talk it out and find closure? What if they could be a real family? How incredible would her hard-won acceptance feel?

…Too late it occurred to him that she was likely manipulating him. The hag knew exactly how desperate he used to be for her approval, and the habit of a lifetime dies hard indeed.

He'd played right into her hands.

His eyes scalded with hot tears of frustration. Why did life have to be this way? He wasn't asking for the world, just a reason why one old woman could overrule their lives in every way imaginable. What the hell had he done, letting her waltz into their private home as if she owned it?!

Obaa-san was here. Obaa-san was here. Obaa-san had found them. It was the nightmare scenario. He should have slammed the door the moment he heard her voice. He should have told his mother not to come home, or told Obaa-san she'd be out till the next day and bought them some time. He could try and catch Kaa-chan before she got back but that wouldn't remove the problem of his grandmother being _in their home_.

The simple truth was, they were no longer safe.

To be totally honest, the best thing that had happened to them since their escape had been vampire attacks; so perhaps they'd never been safe at all.

…Vampires.

Vampires that could erase memories.

Or at least lift his mother's depression enough for her to fight back against Obaa-san to her face.

He looked back the way he'd came and stared up at the hill, with its ominous fog and indistinct castle only he could see. It was pathetic, even abhorrent, to turn to a group of bloodsuckers (or in one case bloodspurter) for rescue from his personal problems. Undead or not, he disliked the idea of having other people sort his life out. Kenta knew all too well what that kind of life would be like. It would be the lonely hell of his grandmother's house.

But…

He was already aware that he and his mother were not strong enough to weather the coming storm. And he had no one else to turn to. His father had never intended to return to their lives permanently. He had no particular friends to call upon. Only Karin who _would_ help him and only her family who _could _actually do anything…

He was already sure they would refuse him.

But he had no one else to beg for help.

He started to run towards the hill. There wasn't much time left before Fumio returned and he had to hurry. But perhaps if he'd been capable of thinking straight, he'd have been less hasty to throw himself at the mercy of vampires in such a severe state of emotional turmoil.

* * *

_-Alliriyan-_


	3. New Scars

**Old Wounds**

_New Scars_

[+]

The Maaka family had just settled down again to another normal, quiet night in. Truth be told there wasn't a great deal to do when one was nocturnal, only ventured out to drink the fresh blood of the nearby human populace, and found television to be too glaring on the eyes.

So perhaps it was no wonder that Anju had her dolls; arranged in neat dislocated heaps all around her perch on the settee where she could keep an eye on the restless spirits pinned within them. Ren had his long legs stretched out behind her where he could kick her for his own amusement whenever the boredom grew too strong. With no woman on the go to occupy him, he'd resorted to rereading an ancient text on the genealogy of various vampire clans. It was hardly his first choice of leisure activity but his mother had commanded it with a wave of the killer slipper. Anything that might shed some shadow on the subject of why Karin was such a weirdo would be gladly welcomed by all.

Their parents were conversing quietly across the room, Carera swirling a fluted glass of chilled liar's blood (she'd garnered it herself this time, not trusting her husband's judgment at selecting something to her taste) and sipping at it in between sentences.

"Given the outcome of the last clan meeting, maybe we should…hmmm?" she murmured. Henry looked at her with surprise. "Although we may get another Karin," continued his wife; "there is also the possibility of another Anju."

"You seem to be leaving out Ren," said her husband mildly. They exchanged glances and shrugged in unison.

"Eh."

Ren nudged Anju with his foot. "Change the subject, why don't you. I don't want to hear them talking about _that_."

His littler sister gave him a condescending stare, only getting away with it because she was the treasured youngest. "If you insist, hypocrite-nii-san." Raising her voice, she asked, "Did I tell you about Boogie-kun attacking one of my classmates?"

"Not in enough detail," smiled Carera, turning her attention to her daughter. Then something distracted her. "Wait a second…did anyone else notice that? Ren, did you order take-out again?"

"Not since that girl got a better job and moved on," he replied.

"I used to enjoy the odd visit, you know," mused Henry. "From the delivery boys. You pick one you like, call them out and eat them when they arrive. Well worth the price of the pizza."

"Shut up, dear," ordered Carera. "Though on that subject, how do you afford those dodgy hotels all the time like the Caledonian, Ren? It's not like you work. You haven't been stealing Karin's money from working at Julian's have you?"

"Shocking, Ren-nii," whispered Anju.

"Don't be stupid. I hypnotize the girls to pay for it. I mean, seeing as I'm the equivalent of a holiday, a makeover and a toy boy for them they shouldn't mind paying for me, now should they?" He preened his turquoise hair a little, yet Carera remained unimpressed.

"Geez, you're a makeover artist now? You know, Karin always complains that depression isn't a very glamorous taste in blood, but come to think of it neither is stress."

"Liars, and pride....." murmured Henry. "And for my father love. It seems the vampiric tastes are declining."

"Or adapting to whatever's going," snapped Ren. "People are shallow these days. Love and pride are harder to find." He was the cool one of the family. He _really_ didn't appreciated being jibed at by his parents.

As one, their eyes slid towards the north-facing front door. No one had called for take-out, so what was that delicious scent traipsing up the hill towards them? It came nearer and nearer until they could almost taste it. Possibly they were imagining things, but then it was a very realistic dream they were sharing. Pupils were beginning to slant in anticipation.

The doorbell rang.

Oh crap.

That meant either Karin had suddenly become so human they reacted to her, or her little human boyfriend was here, and in a bad mood. The former option was unthinkable; the latter undesirable.

"What the hell does _he_ want?" Ren begged the question. "It's not like he needs directions to the Sparrow Temple anymore, is it?"

"I don't know," yawned Henry. "I don't know what you lot are all worked up about either."

"Have you no nasal senses?! He smells gorgeous! Divine! Exactly the kind of terrible, self-destructive hurtful liar I like. What on earth could he have done?" Carera was almost drooling, and Ren had to concentrate extremely hard to block her out. Her high praises of the tempting scent were not helping him to ignore the Usui kid's potent aura of stress.

"Well I hope he doesn't expect our help with whatever it is," said the teenager with a snort. _I hate feeding from males! _"I'm not biting anyone for him. How many times has Karin exploded because of him now?"

"Too many," Henry snarled, dropping into evil protective father mode. With added fangs. Meanwhile the cloud of despair they were all super-sensitive to on various levels moved deeper into the house.

"Oh this is just too much," sighed Carera. "We can't bite him, can we?" She took a large gulp from her champagne glass, attempting to quell the craving. Crossing her legs, one foot jiggled up and down impatiently.

"No." Ren was resolute in the face of her hypocrisy. "If I don't get to bite his mother, you don't get to bite _him_. End of. He's Karin's snack now."

"Satan's teeth," muttered Carera. "Those two are stuck together at the hip nowadays. I guess it's no wonder she'd fall in love with the first guy she's ever really known well, especially one keeping an important secret for her; but it just doesn't work out _ever_, relationships with humans."

Henry Maaka growled. He couldn't help it; the alternative was bursting into tears at the thought of losing his baby Karin to another. And that would be inappropriate if the object of his grief entered the room and witnessed his breakdown.

"The only way to get round that is to marry her off to another vampire clan," sniffed Ren. His teeth were extending like a cat's claws; he wished they would stop. "And we can't expose her multiplire nature to our relatives and rivals, now can we?"

"Of course not," shuddered his father. "She wouldn't last five minutes."

"Why are we so convinced of that?" asked Anju suddenly. Boogie-kun waved his knife to punctuate her point. "We accept her. Wouldn't they?"

Her mother's reply was condescending. "Darling, we have a family bond. Karin wouldn't be so protected away from us."

"So you're saying the only reason you don't hate her is because she's your daughter?"

"But of course, that's how all families work. Kids are horrible little creatures, especially other people's."

"Don't worry Anju-chan" cooed her father; "She doesn't mean you in that, you're very good and mature."

"A real prodigy of a vampire." added Ren. He poked her again, pulling back when one of the possessed dolls tried to maul his foot. "Then again who doesn't come across as a genius next to our darling sister?"

Carera hid a goading cackle behind her hand, setting the goblet of blood down on the side table. Her voice was snide. "Oh dear, Ren, I hope you're not including yourself in that. You may be able to charm the girls but you're no gifted talent."

"Well here he comes," announced Henry, cutting into their argument before it could take off. "On your marks, get set, go!"

"Get set for what, you idiot?!!" screeched his wife, battering him with The Slipper. In the resulting scuffle to escape, a lamp hit the floor, switching itself on at impact. Carera shielded her eyes with her now blood-stained slipper. Even a twenty watt bulb was glaring to one with natural night vision.

"I thought you might need some encouragement to resist his fantastic scent that you keep harping on about!" sobbed Henry as he tried to stem the bleeding with a handkerchief.

Anju clutched Boogie-kun tighter, suddenly feeling light-headed. A disturbed bat darted silently into the room, heralding the approach of their neighbour. The vampires quieted, falling into a stealthy atmosphere as prey walked willingly into their lair.

* * *

Kenta walked in to find himself the centre of attention. The front door hadn't been locked (though he had rung to no answer) and he'd managed to find his way to the living room after a little exploration.

"Well, hey there, human boy;" said Carera in a strained voice. "How's your blood - I mean, how's life going?" _And he's such a tasty boy in any respect, hard working, no junk food; exercises..._

Kenta stared at her oddly. "I...it's not very good."

"Of course," sighed Ren. "Why else would you be here. It's not like you visit."

It only took a single look at their closed faces and shadowed, reticent body language for Kenta to see sense. He'd known they would refuse him, he'd known it all along. Every step he had taken towards their mansion had given rise to another reason why he should not dare seek their aid.

But knowing that and experiencing it were two wholly different things.

He closed his mouth before the shameful words 'I need your help' crawled out. He shoved the words away, buried them deep down next to his pride. The pride he could barely admit existed, despite his being an unwanted grandchild and troublesome child and nowhere near the perfect citizen he dreamed of being. That secure, obedient businessman who could afford heating for his toiling mother.

He'd been a fool to come here, but now that that glimmer of hope had been snuffed out his stress was only doubling and redoubling with his rising heartbeat. Grandmother was here, Grandmother was here; _everything was going to go wrong_.

A low hiss interrupted his terrified reverie. Anju looked at her brother in mild surprise, he was wild-eyed and being restrained from pouncing by various of her possessed dolls. She leaned closer to him until Boogie-kun's carving knife could reach.

"Ow!" Ren snapped out of his trance. "You little-!"

Luckily their squabbling was disguised by the darkness.

The silence dragged on until its pressure was physically painful, and only then did Usui speak.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled; "I shouldn't have come here. I apologise for disturbing you." And the fact that he didn't even deserve to stand in the same room as a host of blood-sucking vampires needled at him; aggravated that tiny seed of pride that had never been allowed to bloom, the one that kept him from turning to easier ways out of his situation like theft instead of hard graft. Like the self-respect that had kept his mother from working in the Caledonian as anything other than a cleaner. And his pride was all the more wounded for being so stunted. It sent out a tiny leaf of rebellion, _this isn't fair!_

Henry coughed and hid his sharpening canines with one hand. Now that their visitor was adapting to _his_ taste in blood, he could smell what all the fuss was about. The boy was a twisted knot of panicked emotions, and the adrenaline was only making everything stronger.

"Can we help you with anything else?" asked Carera sarcastically through gritted teeth.

"No, I'm fine," whispered Kenta, turning to leave. For the woman in the red dress the air was pounding with the beat of his untruth.

"Stop lying to yourself." Her reply was arch and unfeeling. Any chink in her defences would lead to her drinking all his blood right now. "Anju, make sure he leaves before Karin gets home. I don't want her exploding when this little bundle of joy wanders past."

As Usui Kenta walked slowly back to the front door and even more reluctantly to the emotional wreckage awaiting him at home, the sudden loneliness was overwhelming.

He had never had people to rely on before. He had turned to them for, admittedly, the second time, and had understood the rejection without a word being said. It must have been his fault. He must have been a leech again. Never wanted.

_God._ If Obaa-san took his mother away before he could return, he was going to be _all alone_.

Eyes that struck fear into the hearts of most who saw them blinked back a tear, pretending it had never been. He pulled open the heavy door that led into the enchanted woods, and it creaked like the cackling of crows. A flood of bats swarmed into the hallway, knocking him back.

And as he fell, small hands curled about his neck to pin him down, and golden predator eyes filled his vision, and long, thin, needle fangs taking their virgin bite were the last thing he felt before all his energy drained away.

Yet somewhere in that numb sea of exhaustion…he didn't feel alone anymore.

* * *

Karin jogged up the hill after a long shift at Julian's, more than ready to collapse on her bed and sleep the night away. Spending time with her nocturnal family might have to wait, because her feet were about to drop off. And the glacé cherry smushed into her hair by some sweet, sticky child of a customer needed to be washed out too.

She walked straight in the open door, barely noting the flecks of blood on the doorstep. She closed her eyes and hid her mouth in a yawn. It was no wonder she tripped.

Landed on something cold, unmoving, yet curiously soft and lumpy at the same time. All she could see in the dim light with her weak vision were two puncture holes in a pale neck. Edged in the very scant dried blood that suggested not enough was left. And the smell was familiar. The scent of Usui Kenta and his permanent veil of depression.

Karin slowly looked up, her body shaking with a hopelessness for once all of her own making.

"Anju?!"


End file.
